


A Miracle on Christmas Eve

by kathiya_ramani



Series: Emergency Johnlock Cravings Treatment Unit [10]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas Eve, Declarations Of Love, First Kiss, M/M, Morning After, Sherlock is gorgeous, Sherlock moans gorgeously, kissing under mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:13:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21936538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathiya_ramani/pseuds/kathiya_ramani
Summary: And Hudders, the old minx, shouted. " Oh! Look!! Boys, you are standing under the mistletoe !!!"
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson
Series: Emergency Johnlock Cravings Treatment Unit [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1412740
Comments: 21
Kudos: 41





	A Miracle on Christmas Eve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sudeshna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sudeshna/gifts).



Faint morning light illuminates the window with a serene yet pale glow, which is reflected on Sherlock's sleeping face . Serene, yet pale. And John wants to see again, the blush that adorned it last night. John intends to bring it back. 

John was sure the mistletoe was Hudders's idea. John never brought it ( John isn't that crazy), and Sherlock couldn't be arsed to care about mundane things like decorating the flat for their little Christmas do. And somehow he and Sherlock were drifted their where it hung wickedly from the ceiling of the doorway to the kitchen. John was nursing a drink in his hand and Sherlock, for some inexplicable reason, was carrying a pair of antlers. It was the most ridiculous thing. And Hudders, the old minx, shouted. " Oh! Look!! Boys, you are standing under the mistletoe !!!"

"Traditions are traditions. Now you will have to kiss " giggled Molly Hooper. " Just get on with it already! " ,cried the slightly inebriated Detective Sergeant Lestrade. 

Sherlock looked like a deer caught in the headlights , complete with antlers, for all of twenty seconds before he scoffed, drew himself to his full height and passed his judgment in his damnedest public school accent. "This is utterly ridiculous! "

But John saw it. John saw the vulnerability still lingering beneath the shadow of Sherlock's thick eyelashes, which was no mean feat of observation, because he too had been slightly inebriated himself. 

Maybe that's what made him bold. That's what he would tell himself later. But deep down, he knows it isn't true. He knows he had wanted to do it at Angelo's, even on that very first day, all those days ago. " Is it though, Sherlock? " , he drawled, his steely blue eyes boring into Sherlock's. 

It was heady, to look into those eyes which held the secrets to the universe. John felt dizzy with it. He pushed the tumbler of neat whiskey into Greg's hand which helpfully shot out from the periphery. 

Sherlock blinked, and shook his head. 

He was blushing furiously, and it made him look that much lovely. 

John smirked. And their faces drew close to each other in perfect synchrony. They pressed their lips together and warmth spread all over his body and made him tremble with the sheer elation of it. 

He, John Watson, was kissing Sherlock Holmes. Who would have thought. And who would have thought that those perfect lips would be that much warm, welcome and pliant? 

And then Sherlock drew back. Mrs. Hudson hooted and John heard them applaud. Sherlock turned his back and walked away. He stood near the fireplace, his back turned to the room as he played the violin. Never did he turn back to even acknowledge John's presence, or anyone's, for that matter. 

Frustration was the least part of the inner turmoil John felt, to have finally kissed Sherlock and to not know how the kiss was received. Time passed tortuously slow , and it was close to midnight when the last guest said her goodbyes and Merry Christmases and good nights. 

John runs his hand leisurely down Sherlock's flank and rests it upon his jutting hip bone. He buries his face in Sherlock's soft curls, marvelling at the pure wonder that now he could finally, actually do it. Last night he wasn't so sure, when he walked the few steps from his sofa to the fireplace as if wading through molasses. 

He cleared his throat and Sherlock bowed his head. 

" Sher-"  
"John I'm-"  
They both halted. 

" Let me see you, please! " John whispered. 

"You have seen more than I ever intended to show you, John. I'm sorry. It won't happen again"

"But why? Why would you hide from me? Allow me, Sherlock and i… I promise I would cherish what I see"

And of course, John has always been the more romantic of the two. He just….couldn't see the ethereal beauty of Sherlock Holmes surrounded by the flickering Christmas lights and not tell him. 

"I love you "

Sherlock's eyes widened.  
It was Christmas.  
And a miracle was due. 

"I love you too, John Watson "  
His deep baritone cracked towards the end. 

John caresses Sherlock's hip languorously as he recalls the way the fire crackled in the silent night while he listened to the slight whimper which escaped Sherlock's lips when John kissed him thoroughly, deeply, passionately, with all the pent up longing for ten years, no holds barred. 

How Sherlock came apart in his hands, how he panted John's name, his pleasure picturing almost a look of agony on his gorgeous face when he orgasmed. How his perfect cupid's bow lips formed a perfect curve around his name… "John! "

It was perfect.  
The memory stirs John's cock against Sherlock's bum and he feels an answering press back. 

His lover is waking up. 

And makes the most gorgeous, most sensual long, long moan at the twin sensations of John's caress on his hips and his cock pressing against the crack of his butt. 

"Good morning " , John huffs a laugh while his hand sneaks surreptitiously into Sherlock's groin, to cup his semi hardness. 

Because if that is how exquisitely Sherlock moans, John intends to make him moan more, every morning.


End file.
